


Tapping Elysium

by CadersSparklet, SineadRivka



Series: Nova Initia: Cracks in the Shell [3]
Category: Jurassic World (2015), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 03:31:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5076118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CadersSparklet/pseuds/CadersSparklet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SineadRivka/pseuds/SineadRivka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jan needs to get a feel for the island, and there's no better person to talk to than one of the raptor handlers. Barry, for his part, hopes that the man who has come to replace Hoskins is willing to work with the animals, rather than make plans for them. Meanwhile, Claire and Owen make a stop at one of the more famous of the animal paddocks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tapping Elysium

**Author's Note:**

> Suggested Listening:  
> CadersSparklet: Song of the Caged Bird - Lindsey Stirling & Royals - Lorde  
> SineadRivka: Phase One - Daniel Lozinski & Magic - Mystery Skulls

There is something to be said about the eerie silence of a tourist destination wildlife reserve. Tourists should have been clogging the docks with screaming children demanding sodas and souvenirs. Teenagers should have been flirting with their vacation flings.

Janarius Azzara leaned against his "car" as he talked with Barry about the Indominus incident, this time off the books. The deserted landing was peaceful, but both knew that it wouldn't last long with the reconstruction efforts. He and Prowl had been on the island for only a week by now, and they were thinking about reopening to the public in about a month’s time.

"So, Blue could have killed you. But she paused."

"Yes."

Rubbing his face, Jan looked over the ocean, grateful that it was still early morning and the sun wasn't trying to blind them. "She showed recognition in some way."

"Yes."

"How would you rate her and Delta's intelligence, then?"

"Better than a large cat, possibly as cunning. Possibly even as capable as an ape. They know the hands that feed them, and the voices that have trained them."

"Delta killed my predecessor. She tasted human blood and knows that we are easy to kill."

"No, not easy to kill. Only the weak are easy to kill. Not all humans are such. She witnessed Owen and Blue communicating in order to defeat the Indominus. She knows that Owen is stronger than most humans, and that her beta defers to him." Barry shrugged. "She defers to me because I have spent more time with her and I am of a rank similar to Owen. She is a good girl, but is terribly confused right now."

"And keeping her sedated isn't helping any."

"No."

"Do you feel that she is a threat to the island?"

"No, I do not."

"Is it safe for her to join Blue in the raptor paddock?"

"In another few days, yes."

"You want Owen here to oversee it?"

"If possible. He commands both; I can only influence."

Nodding slowly, the security director rested hands on hips and slouched. "And what of the new raptor from Sorna?"

"It . . . is very strange. I do not know what their pack structure is like, but he does not react like the Nublar raptors. There is something very scarily intelligent about him."

"Should we call the expert?"

Laughing, Barry shook his head. "Mr. Azzara, if you are ever able to bring Dr. Alan Grant out of his retirement and onto this island, it would be my pleasure to slow-broil my boots in honey barbeque sauce, then eat them shoestrings and all. That man will never come back."

"He doesn't have to come back. We have the technology to just show him over video. Provided it doesn't trigger him into a PTSD attack." Jan sighed and pulled the braids out of his ponytail, shook them out, and re-tied them away from his face. "Okay. What about the paddocks themselves. Do you feel that they contain the raptors appropriately, and are well enough away from the public that they pose no threat?"

It was a good question, and Barry gave it ample thought. He took his time in the answer. "It contains them perfectly. Even with a perfect jump, they are unable to come within six feet of the catwalk. It had given them enough room to run until they hit their adult phase. It could stand to be a larger enclosure, even with only two raptors."

"Noted. I'll include that in my report. What of the public?"

"It could be farther away from the park, which has expanded since opening. We have had precisely seventeen close calls with tourists wandering away."

Jan sighed. "That's fifteen too many. I'll petition that we move the enclosure closer to the restricted area. We need that area mapped out as it is."

Barry nodded. "I suggested both options several times. Hoskins thought it was a waste of resources."

"Fff . . . no, it's _not_ a waste of resources. We can repurpose the current raptor paddock as some version of a training ground. Could be something for the interns and learning techniques for recapturing a loose baby, could be something for advanced animal restraint techniques." Looking back out over the water, Jan sighed. He wanted to see this place succeed. He wanted to see these humans recenter, reconnect with their purposes. He wanted to see everyone _whole_ again.

It meant making changes and affirming and valuing the many people who had been hurt. He would undo all that Hoskins had dared destroy.

And for several pertinent people, that started with the most volatile asset: the Velociraptors.

Straightening, he indicated the door of his new alt-form. “Righto. Hop in. We got work to do.”

Barry frowned. “Last I heard, our assets were frozen.”

Jan snorted, retying his braids back from his face. “What, you expect the rex to just stop walking? We need to herd her back into Paddock Nine from the Restricted Area, then see about rebuilding fences, deal with the first bit of Delta’s rehab, then check on how Blue and Owen are doing, _and_ we have the Sorna raptor to observe, _and_ see if the Mosasaurus is gonna continue having indigestion from that shit she ate two weeks ago.”

Barry blinked.

Jan stared back at him evenly.

“Financial assets?”

“Couple of private sponsors will be signing your checks until Masrani is cleared from wrongdoing. They won’t be keeping us hanging and they have plenty to spare.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Ready to get back to work? It’s a frigging mountain, ain’ gonna be easy, but we got the tools to do it.”

Barry met his grin and swung into the SUV. “What you waiting for?”

Within minutes, they were off back towards the control room to start gathering up the shreds and reweaving their reality.

.o.

A predator’s mind is filled with juxtapositions of jagged instincts and lethargic habits. Regardless of when the hunter roamed the earth, little has changed in a carnivore’s mind. So long as food is plenty, laziness is developed. For one particular creature on Isla Nublar, however, every goat is appreciated. She was no dumb predator, nor was she as cunning as the raptors she had once eradicated from her island. She was the queen and they were interlopers on her territory.

The old Tyrannosaurus rex enjoyed the leisure of being fed after almost a decade of her own hunting. The first year after the humans left had been the hardest. Not only had she learned to hunt on her own, but she had also survived the infections from her wounds. The scars no longer itched or stretched painfully, but age was starting to catch up with her. When the humans returned, she was the last of the first generation of dinosaurs to be recaptured.

And oh, what a glorious struggle. It ended only when she wanted it to end, when she determined that it would be worth her time to settle as the crown jewel of the new park. The humans knew she chose her time to walk into the paddock as well, and treated her with the dignity she demanded of them, fearing her and coloring the air with their sweat-fear-stench. It was a few more season-cycles before She first appeared, wearing the same white that the Old Man once wore, walking through all observation rooms around the paddock, both public and private. Her pace was deliberate, commanding, poised, and predatory.

Soon, she heard a name, almost a click-rumble-purr, almost a proper name.

But the woman looked like fire bursting from the heart of a cloud.

The second time the woman came around, she was ready for her. Stepping out from the underbrush, the Rex ignored the pile of meat waiting for her, a flare lit beside the vitamin-heavy scent of blood and beef. She studied the woman through the glass. This was not the observation point that the public would use. This was the normal feeding zone, bleeding meat resting in a concrete bowl.

She didn’t care for those who wore the same dirt-colored outfit. They all smelled different from each other, but shared the underlying stench of fear. Even the one that smelled like the raptors had a healthy fear of her. He had not flinched from her, but had not approached her the way that this woman did.

There was no fear-stench. Just simple acceptance.

Her stomach wanted filling. So she bent her head to eat. When she looked up, Fire-On-Clouds was still watching her, leaning a shoulder against the glass, eyes calm.

Her voice was pleasing, not shrill, not trembling with fear, as it echoed through the bars that made up the ceiling of the observation deck.

“Hello, Regina. Good girl.”

For weeks, the woman showed up every day. Never the same time, but just came. Sometimes she had the other handlers around, sometimes she didn’t. When she went unaccompanied, she spoke out loud, pacing, moving her hands around. The Rex began to understand that she had been given a no-tail name. Others like Fire-On-Clouds called her the same name over and over again. It was growly. She liked it. _Regina._

Then came another growly name, one that only Fire-On-Clouds used when there was nobody else. _Granny._

Cycles of seasons continued through. The raptor-man smelled more and more strongly of his pack, stood and moved more and more like his creatures. It was both familiar and alien. But good. They needed a human to look to.

She, now, did not. But she liked this human woman who didn’t fear her. She liked her voice.

It was a mass panic, a herd of fear-stink trampling through the back corridor, that first caught her attention that there was something Very Wrong happening. Hours went by, and the strange scent of another sometimes came over her wall on the breeze. Roars and raptor pack-hunt calls echoed.

Then Fire-On-Clouds.

Claire.

Her scent, distinguishable through the sheen of herbivore scat coating her skin, was on the other side of the wall.

Her voice. Determined.

She was very scared.

Regina rumbled deep in her throat. Her human should _never_ be scared. If something scared her, it needed to die.

The gate opened.

For the first time, nothing stood between them, no barrier. Claire had no fresh fear-stink, just many hours of old fear-stink soaked into the white things around her body. Regina paced forward, seeing the flash and movement of the flare.

It usually meant food.

It also meant “follow me.”

Claire turned and began to run back towards the thing that she feared.

Regina was ready. She bellowed in challenge, never outpacing the woman leading her to help defend _their_ land and territory from the interloper, the unnatural _thing_ that stood threatening _her human’s_ claimed humans.

This was her domain once more.

And with help, it would continue to be her domain.

The raptor was an acceptable presence and assistance in the fight, though it was strange to feel the claws and feet not digging in through skin on the attack.

Turning to explore the fresh terrain, Regina hoped that she wouldn’t have to resort to feeding herself again. And when the humans had returned, she sedately followed the flare and goat on wheels back into her cozy den, but enjoyed snapping at any handlers who had gotten too close.

It was almost two weeks before she saw Claire again.

And her human looked very weary.

Regina ignored her food. She had eaten her morning meal, and hadn’t done more than sun herself over the course of the day. They weren’t making her do much of anything, and she hadn’t expended enough energy to want to fill her stomach a second time.

She walked up to where Claire stood on the now-open deck. It had lain unused since the Other infiltrated, and a hurricane had followed the Unnatural One and knocked several trees down. The glass had been damaged.

Humans scattered at her approach, screaming and filling the air with fear-stench.

Muttering and moaning at all the unnecessary fuss, Regina rested her chin upon the deck beside her human, one large eye watching the little queen’s face. The screams died away. Only one human remained behind. The Raptor Alpha. He stood back, respectful, not fearing anything happening here.

Regina whuffled, the noise similar to a greeting that of a tiger’s.

She wasn’t hungry for the taste of human. They weren’t that tasty anyway. Too little meat, too many bones to stick in her throat. Humans could be prey, but they could never be food.

Tipping her head sideways, the old rex nudged the side of her snout against the human’s shoulder with an inquisitive moan. Her human hasn’t come to speak with her in some time. Couldn’t have that. She nudged at the human again, gentler. Come and use your mouth-words.

This was new. New to Claire and there was no fear. There was awe for this magnificent creature that had saved _her life_ and thus the park. There was slight exhilaration at the sudden feeling of warm breath fanning her and the gentle pressure against her shoulder was at odds with the beast before her. She knew without looking that Owen stood behind her, closer to the wall and the exit, but his presence gave her comfort. 

They knew Regina didn't usually come out to the workers who were here to fix the enclosure, so it was expected that they'd run in terror. That Claire was the sole focus of attention? That was a bonus in her eye. Her fingers didn't tremble as they rose up to press against what she could reach. She knew it wouldn't really register to the carnivore but it meant something to herself. 

"Hey . . . Old Girl . . . Been a while," Claire spoke clearly, not an ounce of tremble to her voice. She was in control of this moment and she knew Regina wouldn't harm her. The predator wouldn't hunt unless hungry . . . It was much like the lions on a safari who would sleep around their prey who didn't fear them simply because they knew the predators were sated. 

Owen did what he did best. Observed with shrewd raptor intensity. Eyes that missed nothing. He didn't interact. This was something Claire needed and it proved the odd _itch_ he had in his mind from the incident. He'd seen something . . . incredible that night. Claire had singlehandedly gone to get the T-Rex with no hesitation. He'd never asked. Never pressured to find out about it. No one really brought it up. It'd been dumb sheer luck. Some claimed the Rex had gone after the flare and ignored Claire as easy prey in favor of defending her territory. He had seen every moment of Claire’s run back onto Main Street. Regina could have stepped on her, ate her, anything. There was no reason for Regina to _not_ have killed Claire, aside from the fact that she wasn’t hungry, and that she was familiar with Claire’s scent and image.

Still . . . he was seeing himself in a way. The way he was with his raptor squad. This was Claire . . . and she'd gone for the top of pack carnivore. That was oddly enough, one of the biggest turn ons that he could have ever fantasized about. He kept his thoughts to himself, though. Time enough to speak his mind later.

Regina "mooed" and angled her head a little differently, hoping that her human would get the hint. She felt pressure, the first actual touch between queens, but it wasn't enough. The skin around her eyes was itchy and unhappy from the recent weather and there hadn't been any handlers willing to give her face a good scrub and oil. She loved getting oiled. It was worth being very, very still for. A small noise, a clear entreaty, bubbled out of her throat, ending on a higher questioning note. Her fingers wiggled and she pushed herself closer to Claire. Her human.

Claire kept still, hands gentle and almost flinched when Owen brushed against her. Her eyes flicked to him, startled that he was watching her . . . Not the T-rex. He wasn't afraid though. In his eyes shone absolute adoration for his woman. She was keenly aware of the giant beast that waited before her. 

"Think she could use some maintenance," Owen murmured lightly, hands resting on Claire's hips. "See the buckets to your right?" She nodded, eyes drifting over Regina's head and visually picking out the rough spots that a lack of handlers was creating. She deserved better care than this, even if Claire had to do it herself. 

"Right, I don't know how to-" she started to argue and Owen chuckled. 

"Babe, I'm about to show you. . ." He said and stopped her from moving out from between him and Regina. "Ah-unh. You're doing it . . . she respects you. I'm probably mutually accepted as a raptor in her eyes . . . You know T-rexes and Velociraptors weren't always friends." He moved with her, a perfect shadow to her form. 

"Can't imagine why," she commented dryly and he huffed a sigh. 

"Babe, you're killing me. Red bucket first." It contained coarse sand and Owen's hand was on top of hers as he pushed it down. His breath tickled her ear as he spoke. "I like to use my hands. . . Physical contact and all." She didn't have to look to know he'd made a lewd expression behind her. She bumped her head back lightly against him. 

"Behave or I'll feed you to her."

"I'm too bony babe. Too much work. No real supplemental value," he replied as they moved back to where Regina was. His hand guided hers, staying a top it as he led her through the motions and murmured gentle instructions in her ears. Tips and such for the best way to handle these things. Smooth motions, nothing to dig in too hard just yet.

Took a few handfuls and then it was on to the next bucket. Finer sand. Just like getting a good pedicure at a spa. Then came the third and final bucket, which didn’t have any sand it it at all. It smelled good. Rich and coconutty. 

"Only the best for the queen of the park," Owen teased, pressing a kiss to the back of Claire's head. Slowly he moved away from her . . . Allowing her total independence with this moment. He felt it was important and he was still testing his theory. Although everything he'd seen this far had supported it. Also, he hadn't gotten his hands dirty. 

Regina was making low, contented noises, eyes half-shut in bliss as Owen stepped away. He pulled his phone out and dialed a number on his speed-dial, watching the scene with a fond look. Surprisingly, the video-call was picked up, and the man on the other line fell silent at the look on his protege's face. He knew that there had been another incident at the park, and wasn't expecting Owen to look so well-rested, or looking like he was having a good day. The boy just lost his pack, lost his job, but . . . he was still in a tropical region? Something wasn't adding up.

Finger still up at his mouth, Owen turned around so that the camera still caught his face, but showed Claire grooming the tip of Regina's nose, careful not to get any sand into her nostrils. The big lug was half-asleep to the sound of Claire's soft praises.

The man's face went white, features slack in shock. He leaned closer to the screen, then sat back. He shook his head, still staring. Just staring at something he never thought would happen. He had seen videos of the baby raptors as they grew, held his breath through recordings of several training sessions. Working through his PTSD in this way had helped him cope, but nothing could have helped him understand what the hell he was looking at.

That was the old rex. The one that had come to reign over Isla Nublar. And she was in very good hands with Claire, who clearly wasn't scared of the old animal and seemed to know exactly what the old girl needed.

A slow smile finally began to dawn upon his face, and he typed out a message quickly before waving to Owen and disconnecting the message.

_Good to see that the park is in good hands. Let me know when it opens again. -G._


End file.
